CHRIST’S OWN LESSON ON DISASTERS
by Dr Peter Mastetrs
FROM SWORD & TROWEL 2005 No 1
Based on the New Year Sunday sermon by Dr Masters at the Tabernacle on Luke 13.1-5
At the time of the destruction of the World Trade Centre in
2001, Luke 13.1-5, not surprisingly, was a text taken by many preachers in
the USA. Today, following the Indian Ocean tsunami, this text will undoubtedly be
expounded from many pulpits throughout the world.
The tsunami disaster has taken many, many thousands of lives, and we can
scarcely keep up with the statistics. It has left many broken families, many orphans and
countless destroyed buildings. We know of a Baptist church in Sri Lanka that lost three
quarters of its membership to those terrifying waves. We feel very great sorrow for the
bereaved and suffering thousands.
I was speaking this morning by telephone to Pastor Selvaraj Jeyakanth in
Trincomalee, Sri Lanka,[1] and he was saying how little material aid has arrived so far in that region.[2] His own home was caught by the water, but only partially damaged as it is situated on fairly high ground. The children of an orphanage run by his church narrowly escaped the waves, having been collected from a low lying building just in time. Pastor Jeyakanth and other pastors and helpers have been acquiring and distributing foodstuffs and medical supplies constantly over these recent days. They have organised teams for burying bodies, cleaning wells and setting up kitchen huts along the coastal villages near to them, and they have also begun the temporary placement of newly orphaned children in foster homes.
Here in Luke 13, we have light on such events as these from
the Word of God. To see the point of the passage we must first glance at the background
to the Saviour’s words. In the previous chapter we find the parable of the thief who broke
into the house while the householder slept, and this is clearly a lesson on being ready for
death. The Lord says, ‘Be ye therefore ready also: for the Son of man cometh at an hour
when ye think not.’ Then we read about a chief steward in a noble household who was
not ready for the return of his lord, a variation on the same theme.
A little later we read these words of the Lord: ‘When thou goest with thine
adversary to the magistrate, as thou art in the way, give diligence that thou mayest be
delivered from him.’ This is clearly a plea to us to seek God’s forgiveness before the hour
of death strikes, when it will be too late, because then the full penalty for sin must be
suffered. The previous chapter, therefore, emphasises the need to be ready for the last
hour by seeking forgiveness of sin, and thereby becoming right with God. With this in
mind, the response of some of Christ’s hearers recorded in our text, is easy to understand.
‘There were present at that season some that told him of the Galileans,
whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices.’ Apparently a band of Galileans,
possibly a large group, were either on their way to the Temple, or offering their sacrifices
inside, when Roman troops arrived, suspecting them of being insurgents. They summarily
executed them, so that their blood ran over the very sacrificial offerings they carried in
their hands.
On hearing the Lord speaking about death, judgement and the need for
forgiveness, people in the crowd concluded that the death of these Galileans was a case in
point. They assumed these people were an example of the kind of sinners who needed this
forgiveness. For themselves it was evidently not needed for they were not
great sinners. They thought the Saviour’s words did not apply to them, because they were
good enough to find acceptance with God. Warnings about the need for forgiveness were
for the prostitutes and tax gatherers, and people like these Galilean insurgents, so they
said, in effect, to the Lord, ‘These Galileans are the very kind of people you are speaking
about - great sinners, who will be in serious trouble with God.
This is exactly what so many people think today. They say, ‘Oh, this kind
of preaching about hell and the need for forgiveness is for Hitler and his henchmen, and
perhaps other cruel and crooked people who are so bad it is unbearable. It is not for us.’
However, to His hearers the Lord said, ‘Do you imagine these Galileans
were sinners above all the Galileans?’ ‘No,’ said the Lord, ‘they were no different, no
worse, than others.’ Then He told the listening crowd, ‘Unless you repent you will perish
also.’
In other words, we are all guilty before God. Of course, there is good in
everyone, but we should not focus too much on that, because there is very little good in us
by comparison with what is corrupt and offensive to God. We can all do kind things, feel
sympathetic toward others, and be generous when the need arises. There is undoubtedly
much love, courage, sacrifice and goodness in human beings, but it is all a tiny speck by
comparison with our fallen state, our selfishness, our self-love, our deceitfulness, and our
capacity even for violence and horrible things. All these sins will condemn us in eternity,
because God is holy, and only perfection can live in His presence. This is why we need
free mercy and forgiveness, and this is why the Saviour came to make an atonement for
us.
Let us suppose that the executed Galileans really were insurgents, who had
come to Jerusalem masquerading as worshippers, but planned to perform some violent act
of political sabotage. Today we would say they were terrorists. Even if that were true, in
God’s sight they were probably no worse than everyone else. Even if they had been
prepared to do terrible things, in God’s sight they would not be significantly greater
sinners than other people who treat Him with indifference, and who lie and cheat and
wallow in self-love and self-gratification. In God’s sight we are all as bad as each other.
Repentance, of course, makes all the difference, because according to
Christ’s words it delivers us from death entirely: ‘Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise
perish.’
The Saviour’s words are true for all ages, but there is also a note of
prophecy in them, because in AD 70 the Roman authorities would destroy the entire city
of Jerusalem.
Returning to the Galileans, the question in our minds as we think of the
current disaster is - was their death a punishment from God? The response of the Lord
tells us that they were no worse than other people, and yet their death should remind us of
our own death and final judgement. We should therefore see their death as a token of
judgement and punishment. Certain people are subject to an early death, and this is what
happens in calamities and tragedies, including war. It is not that these people are any
worse than others, or any more deserving of death, but they experience an early demise in
order to wake up the masses to the reality of death and judgement. God’s providence is
very mysterious, most of us being judged at the end of life’s journey, but in calamities
many are taken before time, both converted and unconverted people. For these, the last
day comes early.
We are told in Luke 21 that this will be the way of life
throughout time. The Lord says, ‘But when ye shall hear of wars and commotions, be not
terrified: for these things must first come to pass; but the end is not by and by.’
Such horrific events will occur throughout human history, Christ tells us,
for ‘nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and great earthquakes
shall be in divers places, and famines, and pestilences; and fearful sights and great signs
shall there be from heaven.’
The disciples had asked Christ what signs would occur to show that the
end of the age was near. No doubt, some great catastrophe was in their minds. However,
the Saviour replied that such things would take place constantly until the end.
Broadly speaking, there are two kinds of major disaster. First, there are
those that arise from the transformation of the world that took place as the result of the
disobedience of our first parents at the beginning of human history. The human race fell
from God’s favour through a great sin, when they rejected the perfections and rule of
Almighty God. Consequently, the earth, a beautiful paradise, was changed, being made
subject to disorder, death and decay. It became a turbulent world through a judicial act of
God. This is the world a rebel race brought about and deserved. This is the world in
which God’s protective love no longer banishes all forces of calamity and pain. It is the
domain which our race has chosen, a place where God’s kindness may be disdained, and
the dark side of existence entertained. So much that goes wrong is really the
indirect result of human sin.
But then there are disasters that are directly caused by human
sin, such as war. By both kinds of disaster, life for many is shortened, but vastly more
people perish as the result of direct human action. Either way, people die.
Believers go earlier to glory, and unbelievers proceed to their initial judgement before
most others. The result is that all who remain alive are reminded that this is a short,
uncertain, earthly life, and that death is inevitable.
Death is usually pushed out of sight today. It occurs, preferably, in
hospitals, where it may be dealt with remotely and cleanly. If we had lived 100 years ago
we would have been much more aware of death than we are today. But though we may
keep it out of our minds, catastrophes and wars remind us that we are a people born to
die, and a deep instinct speaks within like a still, small voice, reminding us of our
accountability to God.
It is important to remember that man-induced disasters result in far more
deaths than natural calamities. Some people are saying, ‘How can there be a God when
terrible things happen?’ We must bear in mind that the most frequent and the largest-scale
disasters occur by the direct wickedness of human beings. Acts of genocide have carried
away millions. In the American Civil War 600,000 died, while millions of Russians lost
their lives in World War II. The numbers are staggering. In World War II individual
battles claimed horrifying numbers, such as the siege of Leningrad which resulted in
850,000 deaths, and the battle of Stalingrad which carried away 800,000. The list could
be extended to hideous proportions.
I read a few days ago that if the death toll from the Indian Ocean
catastrophe rises to 200,000 it will only be the same as the number of murders committed
in the United States and the United Kingdom over a period of eight years. I could scarcely
believe that figure, but it is evidently based on government statistics.
We think again of the Second World War, when 250,000 people died in
Berlin alone, and 130,000 people were lost in the Normandy landings. Then we think of
the unspeakable holocaust, and 6 million murdered Jews. Such premeditated evil is
beyond comprehension, yet we are touching on only a few examples in very recent world
history. Many famines are not entirely natural catastrophes, but are induced by outrageous
human mismanagement and callousness.
The nineteenth century Irish potato famine is said to have taken a million
lives, and is ascribed as much to human indifference as to the natural cause. The famines
of Africa are of the same order. Altogether human sin accounts for many times more lives
than are ever lost through natural catastrophes. Surely this proves the biblical explanation
of human beings as having a depraved sin-nature. Atheists reject this, although they have
no other explanation for man’s cruelty to man, but as soon as natural disasters take their
comparatively tiny toll of human life, they heap scorn on the existence of a loving God.
In the book of Revelation we are given a little more
information about the divine purpose in catastrophes. In chapter 6, where Christ is
opening the seals of understanding, we learn again about features of world history that
will be repeated right to the last day. Those famous figures, the four horsemen of the
apocalypse, represent different kinds of catastrophe. For example - ‘There went out
another horse that was red: and power was given to him that sat thereon to take peace
from the earth, and they that should kill one another: and there was given unto him a great
sword.’ We learn that there will be times when God takes away His restraining hand so
that hostile human nature boils into war and bloodshed.
Another horseman represents inequality, exploitation and deprivation.
‘And I beheld, and lo a black horse; and he that sat on him had a pair of balances in his
hand. And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts say, A measure of wheat for a
penny.’ Throughout world history, due to human sin, there will be grasping, racketeering
and oppression, and parts of the world will suffer starvation.
Another symbol is the pale horse - ‘and his name that sat on him was
Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part
of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of
the earth.’ These will always be carrying away a proportion of people from the face of the
earth.
Major catastrophes are described under ‘the sixth seal’ - ‘a great
earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the mood became as
blood; and the stars of heaven fell unto the earth.’ All this very figurative language speaks
of the natural calamities that will also occur until the end comes. These are described as
portents of the great day of God’s wrath, when every mountain and island will be moved
out of its place, and all unforgiven people, great or small, slaves of free, will cry, ‘Hide us
from the face of him that sitteth on the throne.’
There will always be, because of human sin, because of the fall, and
because of the judgement of God, a constant sequence of difficulties and heartaches in the
world. But why does God allow them? Because without them we would become
impossibly arrogant. We need a shadow to cross our lives from time to time to remember
that we are but men and women, and that we are in the hands of God. We desperately
need to feel our smallness. In this age of technology we can do such amazing things, but
then the shadow of war or catastrophe passes across our sky, and we realise that after all
we are feeble human beings, and that we need the help of God. We are reminded that
everyone has to die one day, and hopefully this warns us of impending punishment. In a
sense, these things are the kindness of God, bringing us to seek His pardon and help.
Imagine we all died at a ripe old age. Imagine we were never threatened by
death and calamity, and then, at the age of 100, we obeyed the summons to appear before
God. He would then confront us with our sin, and pronounce the eternal sentence of
condemnation upon us. But we would cry out, ‘It isn’t fair! I had no warning! I had no
sense of danger. I never knew there would be such a thing as death and judgement. I had
no inkling that I was an accountable being. Life was so wonderful. I never experienced a
day’s illness, and never had much sense of death.’ We would stand in the day of
judgement and, say to God through clenched teeth, ‘It is unfair! It is monstrous!’
But through catastrophes, we are not left in ignorance of these things. We
cannot settle back in complacency and pride, because dark shadows cross our horizon to
warn us that we are tiny beings, here for a little season. This is nothing other than God’s
wisdom and kindness.
If we seek Him there can be no ultimate tragedy, no final death for us.
There can be nothing but glory and life. Nineteenth-century evangelist D L Moody said to
a crowd of people, ‘Sometime you will read of my death in the papers, but don’t believe a
word of it. I will not be dead. I will be more alive than I have ever been.’ That is the
Christian attitude to death. If you are a believer you pass into the presence of God, where
loss becomes gain, death becomes life, sorrow becomes joy, and pain transforms into the
most sensational and wonderful experiences.
What the Saviour said about the Galileans being no worse than other
people was revolutionary to Jewish hearers. ‘What?’ they would exclaim, ‘You say we
are all sinners, and that we will all perish except we repent?’ They had never
accepted this. They had overestimated the good in them, and gravely underestimated the
pride, the disobedience to God, the self-determination, the deceit, and all the other ugly
things. There is so much wrong with all of us! The Bible says: ‘There is none righteous,
no, not one.’
We see a remarkably true-to-life picture of this in the present events. In the
fortnight following the tsunami disaster, television and radio news broadcasts, not to
mention the newspapers, have lost no time in ‘talking up’ human nature. They have
repeatedly extolled public generosity, saying how it restores one’s faith and trust in the
goodness of people. Well, there is a certain amount of truth in this, for in the midst of
tragedy we do see courage, noble and selfless acts, and generous people touched by the
plight of others. But this is not all that we see, for if we view the response of society as a
whole, we see a reflection of what we are like as individuals, there being some good in
us, but also a great amount of bad.
The media says, ‘So much has been collected.’ But has it really? Why, the
captains of industry in this country, acting alone, with other similarly highly paid people,
could multiply tenfold the amount that has been given by the general public. If we add to
them such people as the stars of entertainment and sport, the total should be enormous.
What are these people doing? Most of them - next to nothing, it would appear. Are they
hard as nails?
Some of the celebrities worshipped by so many have been spending (so we
read in the newspapers) tens of thousands on their new year parties. I don’t know them, of
course, I can’t really speak for them, but the statistics strongly suggest that the monied
classes are not moved to great generosity by these events.
Even the giving from ordinary people, when the total is finally known, if
divided by the number of households in this country, will be seen to be very modest. And,
as always with famines and disasters, we shall no doubt hear that much of the money
pledged by governments never actually materialises.
We therefore see two things at once in the human race, a measure of
goodness, and a fallen nature. We thank God there is some good left in mankind,
otherwise life would be unbearable, God has seen to it that there remains a measure of
kindness and decency. But when we stand back and look at the total picture, we see our
need of Gods forgiving love.
Over the new year period I have observed a very large club on my route
home, in full swing, people unconcerned about tragedies elsewhere, spending freely, the
liquor flowing, with indulgence in sensual orgies. Far more money will be spent on that,
than will ever make it to the Far East.
These are unpleasantly negative and unwelcome observations, but we see
here our human race illustrated: capable of good, but still swamped by selfishness and
self-indulgence. Sometimes people say to me, Are you saying there is no good in human
beings? No, of course not. But it is completely overshadowed in the sight of God by the
bad.
When the Lord’s Jewish hearers raised the matter of the Galileans, the
Lord added another instance of sudden death to the discussion. He spoke of eighteen
people - ‘upon whom the tower in Siloam fell, and slew them.’ These people seem to
have been standing at the base of a substantial tower, possibly a ‘corner’ tower of
Jerusalem’s wall, near to the Pool of Siloam. Perhaps they were admiring it and thinking
of their security and safety as citizens of such a fine walled city. But then, for some
unknown reason the tower collapsed and fell upon them, killing them. We may assume
that the strong were instantly executed along with the weak.
‘Think ye,’ asked the Lord, ‘that they were sinners above all men that
dwelt in Jerusalem?’ The crowd had mentioned the dead Galileans, not citizens of
Jerusalem, as if to say, ‘Oh, the sinful type of people you speak of come from the
provinces.’ But the Lord picks for His example a tragedy occurring to people of
Jerusalem, the most sophisticated and religious people, saying, ‘Every one of you needs
to repent, or you will perish in the same way.’
Their death is a picture of our own future passing from time to eternity.
They died suddenly. So will we, one day. When the moment comes it will be so sudden
many will not be ready. Their sins will be unforgiven. They will not have given their lives
to the Saviour, or be walking with Him.
There was nothing those people standing beneath the Tower of Siloam
could do to escape. There will be nothing we can do to escape when God severs the silver
cord of our life, and we stand before Him. If only we were ready to appear before Him in
joy and happiness, trusting in Christ, washed clean from sin!
If those victims in Jerusalem had been strong men, it was of no help to
them in their sudden calamity. We too might have a physique like a rock and be healthy
to the core, and full of energy, but when God says, ‘Come!’ we respond.
Victims of the Siloam tower tragedy had no opportunity of being saved
through their social standing or good deeds, and nor will we in our last hour. We may
imagine we will have much to say in our favour. ‘Oh, but I’ve done great things; I was the
head of a large company; I designed complex structures and buildings; I made my stamp
on society.’ But none of that counts if our sins are not forgiven and we do not know
Christ, and do not walk with Him. Tragedies teach us the suddenness of the moment of
death, and whisper to our inmost souls the necessity of being ready.
Speaking of the eighteen who perished at Siloam, Christ said: ‘Think ye
that they were sinners above all men that dwelt in Jerusalem?’ That word
‘sinners’ is most interesting, because the original Greek actually says ‘debtors’. He called
the Galileans ‘sinners’ also, but there the Greek means offenders or sinners. We are both,
of course. We are offenders, and we are also debtors.
Christ’s hearers knew what He meant, and we should also, because sin is
certainly a debt. It is so because we owe God our praise. Have we denied
Him our praise all our lives? We owe Him our thanks. We owe Him our love. Have we
never paid our debts to our Creator? Have we never served Him with all our hearts? Have
we never studied Him and obeyed Him? How much we owe Him!
We must say, ‘I have sinned; I have offended against God; I have broken
His laws; I have spurned His standards; and I have done what I liked. But also I have
stolen my life when I owed it to Him, and I have withheld my love, my service, my
worship, and my all.’
‘Except ye repent,’ says the Lord, ‘ye shall all likewise perish.’ The Greek
word translated ‘repent’ means that we change our mind, our thinking and our allegiance.
When young I thought I was acceptable to God (as the Jews did) but I was brought to
change my mind and see myself as a lost sinner. I also changed my thinking about Christ.
Previously, I had never thought anything of Him, but then I saw that He came from
Heaven to suffer and die on a cross, to bear the eternal weight of punishment on behalf of
those who repent and trust in Him.
I never saw my need, but as God humbled my proud heart I changed my
thinking, realising that I was a spiritually dead ‘earthling’, alienated from my Creator, and
offensive in His holy sight. I never appreciated grace, the message that salvation must be
free because none can earn it, but I came to rejoice in the wonder of God’s unmerited,
undeserved mercy. I never would have given my life to God, until by His troubling of my
soul, my thinking changed, and I came before Him praying for forgiveness and converting
power. There was only one thing I could do - I gave my life to Him. ‘Except ye repent’ -
change your thinking toward Christ - ‘ye shall all likewise perish’.
Notice the amazing implicit promise in those words. If I do repent, I will
not perish, I will never die, and I will therefore live with Christ for ever. He will give me
new life and change my nature, and I will walk with Him, and know Him, and love Him
in life and in eternity.
In Luke’s Gospel, immediately following the Lord’s
words about the collapse of the Siloam tower, we read the parable of the barren fig tree,
in which the owner of the tree says to his gardener, ‘Cut it down; why cumbereth it the
ground?’ The gardener, however, pleads for another year to nourish it, saying, If it bear
fruit, well: and if not, then after that thou shalt cut it down.’ The preacher of the Gospel
feels like that gardener as he appeals to people to seek Christ, and to trust in what He did
on Calvary to bear the punishment due to sinners. We hold before lost souls God’s
promise of new spiritual life, and we urge and persuade and plead with people to repent
and seek that new life. And we have to warn also, if needy souls will not turn to Christ,
the time must come when He, as the Judge of all the earth must issue His divine
command to the forces of death - ‘Cut it down.’
Did you expect me to be talking about this on the first service in the new
year? This is the greatest and grandest message in the world, and one that can change its
hearers entirely in the years ahead, and give them eternal safety.
We pray for all those in the Far East who have been touched by tragedy,
and we want to help them as much as we can. We know that Christian churches in the
region will dispense help wherever it is needed, and also will spread the Gospel, bringing
light and happiness to many.
‘But,’ says the text we have studied, ‘look to yourselves. Unless you
repent you must all one day be suddenly called into eternity.’ Do think very deeply about
these things. Don’t let the time pass. Seek the Lord and His salvation and be with Him,
eternally safe.
Footnote [1]Not the church that lost the majority of its members.Footnote [2]This was just seven days after the disaster.
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